A lighting fixture
full of bees follows us from
house to house, like grief.
MICRO
MICRO
A lighting fixture
full of bees follows us from
house to house, like grief.
MICRO
My mother smokes camels.
The animal, not the cigarettes.
MICRO
I’ve identified more dead birds than living.
MICRO
I see a story on my family's body, each gnarled branch a collective of punishment.